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by keem
Summary: In which Knuckles dominates Sonic, and Sonic LIKES it.


_I love this pairing, although this is the first time I've tried my hand at it. Read and review._

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Their encounters were business-like, detatched almost; there was an understanding between them, a courtesy, and the shared idea was that these were isolated incidents, competely unrelated to their every-day, normal interaction. They almost treated each other like strangers, but Sonic would never let his imagination carry him too far - he liked knowing that it was _Knuckles_ who was panting in his ear, that it was _Knuckles'_ strong arms that held Sonic in place, that it was _Knuckles'_ hips that pressed against his own, his mouth hot and greedy along his neck. It was Knuckles, but at the same time, it was not - the encounters were always so surreal, so uncharacteristic even, that it was hard for Sonic to comprehend the scene and just who was playing the role opposite to him. Never, in a million years, would he have thought of Knuckles as the seductive, wanton type. Yet here they were.

These occurences usually happened without discussion. Knuckles was never the one for pleasantries, and while Sonic was generally mouthy, the first time he had been so startled he hadn't known what to say. The second time he had been cockier, trying to goad some sort of reaction out of the silent echidna.

"Aw, Knux," he had purred, having enough sense to gather his trademark wit back. "Now that I think about it, I don't think I'm really suited to be the bottom in this pairing. Part seems reserved for you. You've got that girly lookin' hairstyle, after all, and those pretty shape."

"Quiet, hog," Knuckles hissed, violet eyes flashing as he flipped Sonic over on the table. They momentairly disengaged as he adjusted their position, Knuckles' pointed fists digging into him as they moved. The hedgehog gasped as the Guardian manhandled him, returning the task with a new determined brutality. It was clear, from the manner in which he conducted these visitations, just how he felt about Sonic. There was no love here, no underlying emotion, which was what Sonic had originally suspected (after all, who could resist his charm? Everybody else adored him; it only made sense that Knuckles would follow suit, in his own twisted way.) Everything was angry, tense - nasty even. Knuckles and Sonic had never been friends; Knuckles would switch sides at the drop of a hat, if he felt the Emeralds were in any way threatened, and he was very suspicious by nature; they found themselves butting heads more often than they were on the same side. Because of it, Sonic regarded Knuckles as his friendly nemesis, at best, and the same applied in the revere, he was sure. There was still a lot of tension between them, and perhaps this was how Knuckles worked out his aggression on Sonic, since Sonic generally got the best of the echidna when they went toe-to-toe on the battlefield.

Knuckles had Sonic folded over in half, one arm wound around his waist to keep him steady, his free hand grabbing him by his throat. Knuckles was such a dark, fierce individual; it didn't really surprise Sonic that he was the kinky type. (He seemed to halfway hate Sonic; it only made sense that he would want to choke him, to have an asphixation fetish. It just _worked._) At the same time, alternatively, it shocked the hell out of him - Knuckles had spent the majority of his life mostly in isolation; Sonic had sort of expected him to be prude, or at the very least, naiive. Knuckles, Sonic was learning, was full of surprises.

Sonic found himself reached his breaking point. His eyes squeezed shut, mouth slightly open as he hurtled toward his crescendo. Knuckles either had good timing, or coincidentally had been at the end of the line as well; his grip tightened and Sonic found that he couldn't breathe, but it didn't matter - nothing mattered -

Suddenly, abruptly, he was released. His head smacked into the worktable they had been busily fornicating atop of, and he yelped in a mixture of surprise and pain.

"Shhh," Knuckles hissed, sounding annoyed. Sonic pushed himself up onto his elbows before craning his head back at his partner incredulously. "Do you want wake up Tails?"

They were in the kit's workshop in the Mystic Ruins. Upstairs there was an attic, where Tails had two makeshift bunks set up, one of which was currently occupied by the slumbering fox. While these encounters didn't follow any specific pattern or timeline, the last two had taken place at the workshop. Knuckles, however, wasn't picky; whatever time of day it was, and whereever in the world they were, he didn't mind - so long as he was in the mood. Likewise, sometimes Tails would leave the two of them alone one afternoon, and nothing would transpire at all; these incidents, where nothing came to be, when it became clear Knuckles wasn't interested in that at that particular moment, left Sonic feeling dissapointed and mildly confused. On the other hand, sometimes Knuckles would want it at the most insane times. Like in the pool at midnight at the Station Square hotel. While it was completely empty save the two of them, there was still the chance that anyone could walk outside on them at any given moment. Knuckles paid no mind; if anything, it seemed to give him a cheap thrill; he would thrash Sonic those times, animalistic and greedy against his throat, leaving his hips and thighs bruised.

Sonic rolled onto his back. Knuckles was pulling on his gloves, the twin barbs dissapeared beneath protective mitten. The only time Sonic ever saw Knuckles' fists was after sex, if he cared to look; he never remembered Knuckles pulling them off before the act, but sometimes he felt them cutting into him during it, a threatening but enticing prescence at his waist or neck. He felt sleepy and compliant and curious and open and philosophical, as he often did when he experienced the afterglow. Knuckles, however, was the opposite - he still seemed to have energy to expend. If anything, he seemed less relaxed than _before _it had happened - as if he was unguarded, somehow, and he needed to quickly re-arm his defenses. Well, that was Sonic's theory anyway. He often liked to think it; that Knuckles, the mysterious, silent, sturdy echidna from the Island in the heavens, who never opened up to anybody except to him during this carnal act of passion. It made sense for them to have that bond, especially during the most intimate of acts. Sometimes if Sonic looked back at him, he could see the only honest, open expression on Knuckles' face right he could ever steal before he - before he -

"Are you leaving?" Sonic asked, and he could not mask his own dissapointment. Dangerous, to be like this, in front of someone who was less like a friend, more like an enemy - a sometimes-traitor whose loyalties were unpredictable. Knuckles was mostly always composed, unreadable; the only emotions he knew were indifference, or rage. Even desire, when it was there, could only be detectable in the eyes, and the slightly parted 'o' shape of his lips. But they were beyond that now, and Knuckles was himself again - a fortress whose walls could not be penetrated.

"What do you think?"

"I wonder what you're thinking," Sonic mused aloud, considering him with half-lidded green optics. He was splayed across the table lazily. "What you always think, when you visit. Why do you come? Why did you pick _me_?"

The echidna turned to leave as the question hung in the air. Sonic watched him pivot and make his way toward the exit and he did not question him further; it was obvious Knuckles wasn't going to answer him, and there was no use arguing with a brick wall. Sonic mentally shrugged it off, feeling sleepy and warm as he put his arms behind his head.

"Well, isn't it obvious?"

Sonic was startled out of his reverie by the sound of Knuckles' voice. He blinked, surprised, and lifted his head so that he was looking directly at the echidna. He was standing at the door still, and had his arms folded across his broad chest. "What?"

"I said," Knuckles said, looking mildly irate. "Isn't it obvious?"

It took a moment for Sonic to realize what he was talking about. All sleepiness drained away from him and he sat up, feeling anxious, excited even. There was something like butterflies fluttering about in his stomach. Most curious, this unique sensation. "You love me."

"So arrogant, hedgehog," Knuckles said, with a shadow of a smile. "To think that I would love you."

"Everyone else does," Sonic said, and although he was dissapointed he couldn't help but be smug.

"I wouldn't quite say that," Knuckles said, shaking his head in distaste. "But I do regard you as my equal."

"And you call _me_ arrogant," Sonic muttered, althugh he was smirking. "I like how you think no one else is up to your _standards_."

"They aren't," Knuckles said frankly, and he made his exit. For a long time Sonic sat there in the darkness of his wake, not sure of what to make of their encounter.


End file.
